Little Lenore.

She sits there smiling, all twisted and proud.
Though she blends in with the most normal of crowds.
Like a gun, the medal's cold.
but she still has it in her weakening hold.
Like a bullet, the blade cuts deep.
And in the shadows, she starts to creep.

The voices whisper, the screams are heard.
While away her soul flies, like a frightened little bird.
And she laughs even louder, the pain she can't feel.
Her heart is now one thing, no one can steal.

Daddy never loved her, and mommy disapproved.
The girl tried so hard, but neither were moved.
As the tears slowly fell, more blood would appear.
Remembering the past, as she hides there in fear.

She sits there rocking, whispering the words.
Whispering the words she wished had been heard.
Her body falls numb, and she is no more.
While the voices all whisper, "We love you, Lenore."